My French Roots

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PHOTO PROMPT – © ceayr

Like the explorers of the past, we came to the new world

Our hopes and dreams rested on the land.

The natives were kind and innocent.

They educated us on how to farm and fish

And how to survive.

And then the British arrived.

They drove us from our homes

Killed our livestock and burned our barns.

Families were rounded up like cattle

And shipped to a faraway land

To serve as soldiers and slaves.

Kill that Indian, and that Frenchman

Because the king ordered it.

When we refused we were shot

In front of our families

We are Acadian.

This tribute to the amazing people who came here from France and battled to create what we now know as Canada, is my entry into this week’s Friday Fictioneers.

8 thoughts on “My French Roots

  1. Your tribute is very poignant and I wish history would never repeat itself, but alas, the worldwide peace seems to be but a utopian dream. It’s always the innocent who suffer the most…

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